PREVIEW

... �

Page after page. Word after word.

But the more I read, the more a question consumed me,

So I would like to ask you...

Can you answer my question?

’If an author created a world with words, but it came alive only in the reader’s mind, who truly owned the story?

The one who wrote it?

Or the one who believed in it?’

...Those were my thoughts.

I rambled a lot, didn’t I?

But what else could I do here?

This pitch-b ...

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“We could be louder,” he whispered in a raspy voice. She shook with need and was about to turn when he clucked his tongue. “Ah, ah, ah, don't do that. I'll see you later, little girl.” And with that, he vanished.

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“My little loli likes to watch? What a naughty little girl.” She was embarrassed that she was caught and mortified by the voice of the man she recognized as ‘him’. What was he doing here? She started to turn around, but he grasped her shoulder so she couldn't move.

“No, let's watch.” His breath was at her ear, fire lapping at her nerves, singeing and burning her insides, making a pleasant feeling erupt in her stomach. His arm snaked around her shoulder and grabbed her hand while his other hand slid down to her sides until it rested on her hip. He was not pressing himself into her, but she felt completely engulfed by him. She knew she should scream, or stomp on his foot, but all she could do was listen to his breathing escalate as his thumb rubbed her shoulder, putting her in a stupor.

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King Atticus Heinvres, the blood-thirsty ruler of the North.

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

……………………………………………………………

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